


Maybe This Might Work

by catstrophysics



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Castiel (Supernatural) is Bad at Feelings, Fluff, Inappropriate Humor, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 16:15:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17563814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catstrophysics/pseuds/catstrophysics
Summary: Sam's left on a case, and Dean's acting weirder than usual. Is he going to sort out his feelings towards Castiel, or alienate his friend further?In which Dean is more of a fumbling idiot than usual and Castiel doesn't understand him in the slightest.





	Maybe This Might Work

“Call soon, okay, Sam?” Dean shouted up the stairs of the bunker as his brother loomed near the door. 

“Yeah, Dean, it’s just one vamp.” Sam smiled down at his older brother, listening to the slight tinge of anxiety in his voice. Ever since they’d lost each other the last time, Dean had grown more and more protective. “Oh, and Cas?” Castiel’s head snapped up from the book he had been absorbed in. “Can you check out that thing with the thing in Idaho I mentioned yesterday?” Cas narrowed his eyes at Sam, trying to decipher his last sentence. 

“The wendigo killings? Of course.” Sam checked his watch one last time, and then slipped out the door. 

Castiel turned his head to Dean, who was reclining across four of the hard wooden chairs that were always clustered around the map table. His normally alert green eyes were at half-mast, his hands folded lazily across his chest. 

“Should I… do some more research?” Castiel craned his neck over the table to see Dean, who was barely visible behind the stacks of lore books Sam had left piled haphazardly all over the table. The two were to be alone in the bunker for a week or two while Sam went and dealt with a hard-to-track vampire who’d evaded them years before. Dean had, of course, tried to come along, but Sam had turned him down with a few words. 

“I don’t want Cas to come along and he’ll try his level best to do so if you’re not here as an incentive,” Sam had explained. 

Dean had brushed this remark off, assuming his younger brother had either been joking or just had terrible word choice. But, over the course of the past few months, Dean had begun to feel pangs of… _something_ … for his angelic best friend. Castiel’s warm eyes, awfully disheveled hair, and graceful, strong hands had wormed their way deeper and deeper into his subconscious until Dean was catching himself staring at the other man as they studied, eyes roving over his face hungrily. He snapped violently back into the present moment when Castiel murmured his name, just loud enough to break into Dean’s musings. 

Dean turned his head and looked up at him, and felt a dagger of intense guilt stab through his heart. This was _Cas_ , his best friend, who had lost so much but finally had a place to call home and people to call family. Dean caught himself in his musings, and once more, Castiel had to clear his throat to prompt Dean to give him an answer. 

“Er, yeah, sure, Cas. I’m going to go look more into the reports of hellhounds running loose in Texas.” Dean heaved himself up off the chair, brushing a hand through his hair as he did so, and proceeded over to one of the vast bookshelves of lore. Castiel’s eyes followed the him for a moment, observing the way he walked and carried himself, high up on his toes, ready to move at a moment’s notice. _This was humanity at its finest,_ Castiel thought, _This, this is the epitome of my Father’s creation._ Dean curved his head back around, away from the shelves, and caught Castiel’s eye. The angel held his glance and smiled a crooked half-smile back at him, and Dean realized that his friend hadn’t left the bunker in going on three weeks. Pulling a few leather-bound books out of the nearest stack, not bothering to look at the titles, Dean came back over to the large oaken table and sat across from the increasingly perplexed angel. 

He turned fully away from the shelves, and without another word grabbed the angel’s hand and hauled him, startled into silence, into the shotgun seat of the Impala. 

***

“Dean. Dean. Where are you taking me?” They were five miles down the road, and Dean still hadn’t said a word. Castiel looked to his left at his friend’s resolute eyes, hard-set on taking them to an unknown destination. “ _Dean._ ” He abruptly pulled over into a gas station parking lot. Dean hurried out of the car, still shockingly silent, and Castiel followed suit. As Dean strode off across the parking lot, Castiel decided it was time for some answers. He seized Dean by the shoulder, pulling him to a halt. Dean stared blankly into Cas’s eyes. “Wait, Dean? Dean? Are you alri—” Castiel tried to probe into his friend’s mind, just to see what was the matter, but was met with a wall of staticky greyness unlike any he had sensed off his friend before. Dean’s eyes shot wide, and just as quickly as he’d gotten out of the car he hustled back in, slamming the driver’s side door. He drove the short distance back to the bunker at top speed, so quickly Castiel feared he’d crash and then he’d be left without a best friend again. Castiel didn’t attempt to get Dean to say anything for the rest of the ride home. 

***

Dean was mortified. He had caught Cas’s eye right as he was thinking about the angel, and had been so terrified that he would read his mind that he had tried to get away. However, his turbulent, denial-ridden thoughts must have been too far away from reason to realize that bringing Castiel on his stress-relieving drive would actually enhance the problem. He plunked down on his bed, too absorbed in his panic to notice that he had an angel shadow following him into his bedroom. 

He fell back on his bed, covered his face with a pillow, and groaned out Cas’s name in distress. He felt the pillow lift off his face, and opened his eyes to a concerned pair of blue ones, framed by a halo of walnut-brown hair. He’d never seen Castiel look so perplexed before. 

“Dean, what is the matter? Is it something I did?” The sight of an angel, this angel, hovering over him, so worried that he’d done something wrong, made all the thoughts of the last few months come flooding back into Dean’s head. Now he felt terrible. Great. Time to make it up to his friend. 

“Hey, Cas?” Dean whispered, his voice low and rumbly with nervousness. 

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel’s voice resonated deep in his chest. Dean pushed himself upright. He wouldn’t mention the drive at all, for fear of saying something that would give him away. 

“You wanna run out and get some dinner? I think we’ve eaten every-friggin’-thing that’s edible in this bunker.” The pleading look in his eyes was plainly visible to anyone tuned in to human emotion, and Dean could feel it. He was powerless to change it, though, just as he was powerless to stop the rush of blood to his cheeks that made him blush harder than he thought he ever had. Fortunately, Castiel was about as far from tuned in to human emotion as anyone could possibly be, and instead simply acknowledged his words with a bow of his head. Dean playfully pushed him up off the bed, saying, “Unless you’re looking for a strip tease, you’d better get out of here while I’m still decent.” 

***

Castiel retreated to his bedroom, unsure of everything that had just happened. He understood that Dean cared about him, but how much? He glanced in the mirror, and was perplexed to see his face as it was. He looked… _scared._ Scared of what? He shook off the emotion and began to get dressed for going out. He peered into the incredibly sparse dresser, before settling on a long-sleeved dark grey button-up shirt and black jeans that Dean had lent him some time ago in a futile attempt to make him “appealing to the ladies.” _Maybe this works on human men, too,_ Castiel thought. He was taken aback. Where did that thought come from? _Remarkable,_ he mused. This isn’t a date, so why am I feeling like it is? He shook off the thought quickly. With that, he ran a quick hand through his perpetually tousled hair and strode outside to wait for Dean. 

***

Dean was having just as much, if not more, trouble picking out clothes as Castiel. He kept trying, and failing, to make himself look casual. _Why do I own so many flannels?_ he pondered. Even as he got dressed for a totally platonic food-getting, he couldn’t help but hope that this would be the beginning of something. _I’m a friggin’ bisexual cliche right now, that’s what I am,_ he agonized. _Well done, Dean, you’re obsessing over another man who has never shown any interest in you as anything other than a friend, and now you’re taking him on a mental date. Your best friend! Dude, how’d you get so low? Friggin' disaster bi_ , he thought, quoting a meme he'd seen while he was doing "research". He was shaken out of yet another mental tangent by his friend knocking softly on his door. Castiel walked through the door a moment later, carrying Dean’s car keys, only to look up and realize Dean was still shirtless. Castiel froze, and for the first time all day his face showed something other than befuddlement or worry. It looked almost like… desire? _No._

“Hey, Cas. Mind if I get a shirt on before we go?” For a second, Dean could have sworn Castiel’s eyes lingered on his bare chest, but they quickly flicked to his eyes. He waited for Castiel to back out of the room, but the angel didn’t manage to take the hint. “Unless you’d prefer that I don’t wear shirts on dates?” _Oh, God._ He’d said it. Castiel’s eyes widened, and he took a small step forwards. 

“Dean.” _Oh, my._ This was hard. Castiel had never been particularly understanding of subtleties in speech, but especially when it came to Dean Winchester. He was puzzling, to say the least. “Dean, I—” 

“Cas.” Dean’s voice was insistent, but still so much quieter than Castiel had ever heard it. “Cas, what do you want me to say?” This was it for Dean. He could lose his best friend right now if Castiel didn’t feel the same. 

“Dean.” Castiel’s blue eyes were laser-focused on Dean, who had yet to look up from his intent study of the floor. “Dean, please look at me.” 

Slowly, the tall man raised his head and held his friend in his gaze. Castiel’s breath caught in his throat. It was so easy to forget his facial features, especially when in the presence of his solid, muscular body, and Castiel had forgotten his eyes. His wide, thrilling, green eyes, that held hope and vulnerability unlike he had ever encountered. Dean Winchester, the man he had gripped tight and raised from perdition, now stood facing him. Castiel felt a surge of emotion unlike any he had felt before, and especially unlike any he had felt for a human. Could this man, the one he had protected for so long, really be the one he sought? He didn’t have another moment to contemplate, as Dean’s strong, bare arms enfolded him and he buried his face in his neck. _Yes,_ Castiel thought. _This is where I want to be._ He raised one arm to caress Dean’s shoulder and used his other to raise Dean’s head up. Ocean blue eyes met evergreen, and Castiel felt Dean’s muscles unclench beneath his hands. 

Slowly, he pulled Dean’s head back down into the side of his neck and kissed him gently behind his ear. Dean flinched ever so slightly, and Castiel tried to break away. But his own hands, starved for every inch of Dean’s skin, defied his brain. Dean softly removed one arm from around Cas, eliciting a little noise of protest, but silenced the angel quickly by using the freed hand to seize? the back of Cas’s head and pull him in for a kiss. The second their lips made contact Cas felt a surge of energy come from Dean, and he was slightly frightened by the power of this man. Nevertheless, he fervently kissed him back. Dean’s tongue lightly brushed Cas’s lower lip, and he opened himself to this remarkable human. They explored each other’s mouths for what seemed an eternity, before Cas lightly bit Dean’s lip, and he tasted a metallic tang. He broke away for a moment and whispered Dean’s name against his collarbone. Dean pulled Cas in tight, just for another second, and then released him. The space between them felt far too large and empty with the absence of the tension it had just held. 

Barely daring to look up at his angel’s face, Dean waited for both of their heartbeats to slow before daring to raise his eyes. When he did, he was shocked by the expression on Castiel’s face. Something deep in Dean’s chest that hadn’t been whole for the longest time finally pieced itself back together, and all due to Castiel. _Maybe, just maybe, this might work._ Dean cracked a smile, and then placed one more strategic kiss against Cas’s forehead. 

“So… Mexican? Pizza? What’re you thinking?” Dean had hoped to dissipate some of the electricity in the air with the mention of dinner, but instead it closed Cas off again. Instead of Dean’s best friend and, potentially, more, Castiel had returned to the heavenly soldier whose armor Dean had tried so hard to crack. 

“Dean…” Castiel didn’t get more than that out. He had no idea what he and Dean had just done, but the look in Dean’s eyes made him feel protective and nervous all at once. This, this was what he had been looking for. Someone to fill in the space left by his estranged father, who told him to be a good soldier and never allowed him to feel anything other than controlled rage. He was petrified of the weakness he had shown before this human. His human. 

Dean sat, frozen into a block of ice, on the edge of his bed where he and Castiel had so recently been intertwined. It took all of his constraint to not pull the angel back against his chest and breathe in his crystalline scent. Hearing his name on Castiel’s tongue made him shiver. As did the ghosts of where Cas’s fingers had dug into his shoulders and where his lips had pressed desperately only a minute before. “Cas, what should we eat?” 

“I’m up for pizza, if that’s alright by you.” Castiel tilted his head questioningly at Dean, as though he was scared of what his response would be. _Maybe this was all a fluke,_ he thought, disheartened. _Maybe Dean was just sad and needed someone’s affection. I shouldn’t get ahead of myself._

Dean smiled at his delicate hedging of the answer, posing it as a second question instead. He peeked up at the angel’s unmistakeable blue eyes and felt his heart skip another beat. _Wow._

“That sounds perfect,” Dean agreed, “although you might want to do something about that hair of yours before we go get it.” He smiled affectionately at the several cowlicks that had sprung back up in the commotion. For a brief second, Dean considered smoothing the hairs back down for Cas, but decided against it, as he was still a little wary of the way Castiel had been acting. “Lemme put on a shirt really quick, okay? Then we can head out.” 

Five tense minutes later, they were in the front seat of the Impala. Dean checked his phone, and saw a text from Sam. It read:  
_Hey, bro-- The vamp got away from me again._  
I’ll call you when I find him again.  
Sam

“Cas, Sammy lost the vampire. Poor guy, we know what that feels like, don’t we?” He spoke it as a question, hoping to coax some words out of Cas, who had said nothing save for Dean’s name. They pulled into the parking lot of the pizza joint in terse silence, broken only by Dean’s steering wheel drum solos. 

“Wait here, okay?” Dean mumbled to Cas as he slipped out of the car. As he strode away in the half-light, he couldn’t tear his mind away from the dark-haired man sitting in his car. This may have been his first crush on a man, but the emotions flooding throughout his body were anything but new. He realized he had frozen with his hand on the door, gazing back at the ruffled silhouette of Castiel. He shook himself, and then went inside and picked up the pizza. 

“Hey, Angel,” Dean said with a smile as he slid back into the driver’s seat. 

“Hello, human,” Castiel replied quietly, his voice rumbling deep in his chest as he turned to face Dean. The drive home was a little less frigid than the drive there, with Castiel allowing Dean to rest his free right hand on Cas’s knee. They pulled into the bunker’s garage, and Dean remarked, 

“Hey, looks like a storm’s rolling in tonight!” 

Castiel startled. The only thing that frightened him, besides vengeful archangels, was thunderstorms. His aloof demeanor disappeared as they descended the staircase, until he was almost shaking with fear of the rolling blasts that would soon rock their home. 

“Dean?” Cas needed only to say his name, and Dean turned and embraced the frightened angel. This is heaven, thought Castiel. They stood there, listening to their synchronized heartbeats and the gradually increasing patter of raindrops on the earthen roof. They slowly made their way to Dean’s bedchamber, arms still close around each other, a silent question and answer given as to where they each would sleep tonight. Gently unraveling the angel’s grasping limbs, Dean grabbed two soft t-shirts and two pairs of sweatpants from a dresser drawer. Unsure of how much Cas was willing to reveal, Dean took his changing out into the empty hallway so the angel would feel more at ease. When he returned a few moments later, Cas was still shirtless, but pulling one of Dean’s AC/DC shirts over his head. _Damn,_ thought Dean. _He looks even better without the trench coat._ Castiel glanced up, noticed Dean watching, and gave him a flirty little wink. Dean smiled, and stuck out his tongue at his dark-haired companion. 

Dean slipped under the covers of his bed just as the first roll of thunder shook the ground. Cas almost leapt into bed, and shivered for a good while afterwards. Dean rolled over and wrapped the smaller body up in his arms, pressing his nose into the hollow beneath Cas’s jaw. 

“Cas?” A word out of the darkness. 

“Yes, Dean?” And, like a faithful echo, an answer. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Dean’s request was met with a moment of silence, before the warm shape he held against his chest rolled over, pulled Dean’s face to his, and kissed him. They stayed, frozen in time, until Dean felt as though he were being crushed under the weight of the earth. Then, only as the last of Dean’s oxygen was used up, did they break apart. 

“Yes, of course, Dean.” Castiel cuddled closer into Dean’s chest and, within moments, was breathing steadily. 

Dean felt the magnetism between their bodies surge, as if all of heaven’s grace had flowed into Castiel’s body to reassure him. He stroked the unruly dark brown hair that curled in front of his nose, feeling a tingle pass through his fingers where he brushed Cas’s scalp. Soon after, Dean fell into deep, dreamless sleep, the best he’d had in years. 

The next morning, Dean awoke to find a cold spot where Castiel had been snuggled the night before. He was a bit disappointed, but not surprised. He never had been one for affection. _And he’s not into you, anyways,_ the little voice of doubt whispered in the back of his head. Then he realized that the smell of coffee was wafting in from the commons. “Cas?” he shouted. “You out there?” He pulled on a sweatshirt over the t-shirt he had slept in, and headed out to the kitchen. 

“I made coffee. I think,” Cas said as Dean pushed open the door. “How did you sleep?” 

“The best I ever have, thanks. Were you okay, with the storm and all?” Dean approached Castiel from behind and wrapped him in a hug, feeling the warmth off his body. Dean pressed his lips against the top of Castiel’s head, hoping it didn’t frighten the wary angel. Castiel breathed a deep sigh, and relaxed into Dean’s arms. 

“Yes. And thank you for allowing me to sleep with you. It won’t happen again.” But I wish it would, he thought. I wish that would happen every single night. He gently pulled away from Dean’s embrace. 

Dean grabbed a dark red mug and filled it up with some of the coffee Cas had made. It smells a bit like him, he noticed. Sharp and warm and familiar all at once, like something he’d want to breathe in for the rest of his life. 

“Hey, Cas, I’m doing laundry today, You got anything that needs it?” Dean tilted his head up at Cas, taking note of his hair, more disheveled than usual, and the fact that he was still wearing the shirt Dean had given him the night before. _He looks like some chick I slept with and am now avoiding the awkward morning after talks. This is Cas. Act normal._

“Yes, Dean, actually. Everything. It’s been a few weeks. Would you mind if I borrowed something of yours for the day?” Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean, hoping he’d say yes. 

“‘Course, Cas. Let’s go find you something cozy. It’s getting cold in here.” He set down his mug of coffee and wrapped his arm around Cas’s waist. _This feels nice. We fit together._ He gently guided him through the hallways, back to Dean’s room. 

The phone rang. “Hey, Sammy, how’s it going?” Cas took a step away from Dean and sat down on his bed. “Yeah, yeah. What do you think it is?” “You think it’s a werewolf thing?” “Alright, keep me updated.” “Bye.” 

“How is he?” Castiel grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him down onto the bed. 

“He’s doing okay. Hey, Cas?” Dean snaked his arm back around the angel, revelling in how comfortable and natural this already felt. 

“Yes, Dean?” Was all he managed to get out before Dean was kissing him again. Oh, this is marvellous. Dean pulled him closer, shaping himself against the other man, breathing in the smell that he had noticed earlier and feeling it fill him completely. 

Dean pulled away reluctantly. “Let’s get you some clothes.” They moved over to the dresser, still wrapped around each other, and Dean pulled out a black-and-white flannel shirt. “This work for you?” 

“Sure.” Castiel pulled the band shirt off over his head, and slipped the one Dean proffered on. It was a little too big, but was soft and warm and smelled like Dean. Wow, this is really happening. This human, his human, the one he would do anything for, the one he loved without knowing, was really here. Holding him tight, tying all the pieces broken off by heaven back together. “Dean. Dean.” He was squeezing him too tight, and Castiel began to feel lightheaded. 

“Cas? Are you okay?” Dean let go a little, and Castiel heaved a deep breath. 

“We should probably do some work,” Castiel murmured between gasps for breath. Dean nodded quietly, placed a strong kiss on the angel’s shoulder, and then pushed himself off the bed. Castiel, watching quietly as Dean walked away, only began to stand up once he was completely out of sight down the dim hallway. 

_What am I going to tell Sammy?_ The words hit Dean’s mind like an axe. His brother, Castiel’s other closest friend, would be furious when he found out what had happened. _Maybe._ After all, Sam had never expressly said that Dean couldn’t have a relationship with Cas. _Because he never had to,_ the voice in his head whispered. _Just forget about it for now. Be with Cas._ He snatched up his phone, and turned it on to a triumphant text message from Sam. 

_Got him! Headed home. See you tomorrow._

A pang of guilt hit him squarely across the face. He needed to sort everything out. Scooping up a book off the pile on the table, he headed to the couch. 

“Cas, c’mere,” Dean hollered, once he heard the angel’s footsteps on the concrete behind him. Castiel approached him, rather cautiously, and as soon as he was within reach Dean jumped up, grabbed him by the waist, and pulled him down onto the couch. “I found this book on the table. Have you seen it before?” 

 

Cas was busy snuggling himself up against Dean, pulling the blanket over them as he did so. It appeared that he shared none of Dean’s worries about his brother’s reaction. Dean poked him gently, and Cas groaned. 

“Ugh, what do you want, Dean? I’m comfortable.” Cas cocked his head back towards Dean with his argument, 

Dean wrapped his arms around the smaller man, pulling him up onto his lap as he did. “I want,” Dean whispered, “you,” he followed this word with a kiss, “to tell me if you can read this book.” He offered it to him, and leaned his head down to follow along as he did. 

“Dean,” Cas protested. “I don’t want to work right now. We have too much to figure out. Like, for starters, our new situation.” 

_Friggin’ angel. Blunt._ “What do you mean, Cas? You asking… what we are? As a… couple?” Dean froze, hoping he hadn’t taken it too far. 

“Yes. What do you want us to do? And are we expected to share a bedroom now?” Cas squinted at Dean, his blue eyes troubled yet more hopeful than Dean had seen in a long time. 

“I… I don’t know, Cas. This is so new to me, too. But I know that I don’t ever want to lose you. And in response to the bedroom thing? I want to do whatever lets me stay near you for as long as possible.” As he spoke, Castiel relaxed farther back into his arms. “Are you tired?” 

“Dean. I don’t sleep. Ever.” Cas had pulled away from Dean slightly, just enough that he could turn around and face him. “I watched over you last night. Did you mean what you said, in your sleep?” 

Dean froze, feeling Cas’s muscles tauten in his hands. “That depends. What did I say?” 

“You said… You said that you wanted me to stay. That’s all you said. ‘Cas, stay. Cas.’ over and over and over.” He felt the pressure of Dean’s clear eyes against his. “And I did.” 

Dean turned his angel sideways, scooped him up, and carried him into the bedroom. Still holding him up, Dean got into bed. He nestled Cas next to him, then pulled him back in. Without tearing their eyes apart, he kissed him. Just once more. “Yes, Cas. Yes, I meant it.” 

He flicked off the light.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic forever ago (November 2017) and just pulled together the courage to actually put it somewhere. Please excuse the writing and formatting, I'd like to think I've gotten somewhat better since then. Hope you enjoyed it! Leave comments/kudos if you like, they really do make my day (I squealed to a friend when people kudos-ed the last fic I posted. They're very tired of me now). 
> 
> Fun fact: the Google Docs title for this fic is "Pathetic SPN Fic #1". 
> 
> Have a great day!


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